Hello Darkness my old friend
by magirl0413
Summary: Prowl is slowly sinking into the darkness of his own mind. He ignores the worried questions from his brothers and friends. He shuts himself away into the darkness and each time it gets harder and harder to return. Let us hope that Jazz can reach him before it is too late. Jazz/Prowl
1. Chapter 1

_Hello Darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again..._

Cybertron always had this bleakness that was beautiful to him. Its barren land was simple and calm, just the way he liked it. There was only the occasional wind, or the rare cloud that covered the sun.

This simple landscape was where the Autobot's Second in command now found himself standing. Prowl shifted his weight just a tad, leaning against the door to the base. The sun was setting on that cycle. He could spend joors out here if he were given the chance, or if he had the choice.

Prowl sighed, he hadn't had this kind of quiet time in a long while. This quiet had ended when he was promoted to Second in command several orn ago.

Things had changed then, and he had changed.

'_Smokescreen to Prowl,_' his comm crackled.

He sighed and answered, though he was tempted not to, _'This is Prowl, what is it?' _

_'Blue and I were worried about you Brother,'_ came the clipped answer.

Prowl flinched and turned back to the barren land.

He and his two brothers, the younger Bluestreak and the older, Smokescreen, had not been on good terms for a while. On accounting for his closing off the bond they shared.

All siblings were blessed, or cursed depending on who your siblings were, with a familial spark bond that connected them to each other's mind and emotions.

Prowl had closed the bond to his brothers shortly after being kidnapped a few vorn ago. He could not let his brothers know what he had learned in that hell, he could not let them in. The Second in command shook his head, ridding himself of those memories for the moment.

He turned away from the wasteland and reentered the base, Prowl prepared himself for the scolding he was going to get.

/?/

"What the frag were you thinking, going off like that?!" His brother hissed at him. Smokescreen paced in front of his desk in the office for the Second in command. He had been waiting there for Prowl when he had entered.

"I was thinking I could survey the land to confirm an experiment of mine," Prowl said.

_Lies_

"So you couldn't just drop us a fragging line, or something just so we'd know where the frag you were?!" His voice was rising now and the curses were flowing freely, Smokescreen was very angry.

"It did not occur to me," Prowl replied, his voice void of all emotion, as per usual.

_More lies_

Smokescreen slammed his servos on the metal desk with a loud 'Clang.'

"Frag it Prowl, how could you be so fragging emotionless about this? Don't you care what we think or say?!"

"It is my job as Second in command to-,"

"Not as Second in command! As your brothers!" Smokescreen cut in.

Prowl felt the twinge in his spark and covered it, "It is my job as Second in Command to care what all of the mechs on the base think or say," he repeated, finishing his previous sentence.

_False_

Smokescreen looked as though he had been slapped. Then his face morphed into one of calm and cold fury.

"You are not my brother any more," he spat the words with such venom Prowl was tempted to cower back but he resisted, his emotionless mask never slipping. "It seems that my brother is dead." With that he spun on his heels and stormed out the door.

Prowl's optics stared ahead, never dimming. He forced air through his vents in quick bursts, the only sign of his anxiety.

He stood up and walked from his office to his room next door. He lay down on his berth and closed his eyes.

Prowl sank into the blessed, addicting darkness.

Breem- minute

Joor- hour

Orn- day

Vorn- year


	2. Chapter 2

_**Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping...**_

Prowl forced his eyes open. He sat up slowly on his birth and ran a servo over his face plate. He noted how difficult it was becoming to simply come out of recharge. The darkness that was so inviting and addictive, was difficult to pull himself from.

Prowl no longer had the desire nor the drive to simply rise at the beginning of the cycle. He felt he had nothing to live for anymore.

His brother's had rejected him, and everyone thought he was nothing more than an emotionless drone.

What life was there to live.

All he really had was his work, demanding and all consuming. Speaking of work, he made his way to the office across from his room and glared forlornly at the many DATA pads stacked on his desk.

He sat down wielding a stylus and began his copious amounts of work. He barely made it through the third pad when his comm crackled to life.

_'Prowl, can I see you in my office please,' _Optimus Prime's voice said.

Prowl sighed in slight annoyance and confirmed his arrival. Gently he placed the pad and stylus down on the desk and paused just before he left his office.

The room itself was small and dull, painted a stark white color that gave no life. It was immaculately clean and neat, without a single thing out of place. The room gave no sign that anyone actually worked there.

Prowl suddenly felt the overwhelming loneliness and sadness he often felt when he was alone, which was all of the time.

He desired to go into recharge, to fall into the darkness and never return. To never feel, or see. To never disappoint or hurt his brothers or to always know that he was going to expire alone. He ignored his feelings of despair and left the silent room.

The walk to Optimus Prime's office was just as Prowl had expected it.

Any mechs that walked by him immediately fell silent and practically pressed themselves against the opposite wall, just to avoid being near him. There was even a moment when two mechs had been walking together and were talking animatedly, but as soon as he had rounded the corner and they spotted each other, the mechs fell silent and refused to even look him in the eye.

At this moment Prowl kept his expression carefully blank, even if in his spark he screamed in anger and hurt.

Finally he reached the Leader's office. He paused and blew through his vents heavily.

After a nanosecond he knocked and waited patiently for the Leader's resounding voice to call through the door.

"Come in Prowl," as soon as the Second in Command heard this, he entered and closed the door quietly behind him.

Prime stood up and nodded respectfully to him with a soft smile, "Prowl, I've already told you twice that you don't have to knock, though it is appreciated."

Prowl nodded and bowed, "Of course, Sir." His voice was void of all emotion, as normal.

Prime sighed and sat back down, though Prowl remained standing.

"There's a new mech coming to the base," Prime began, his voice growing serious, "His name is Jazz and he will be replacing Blackhawk as the head of the Special Ops division."

Prowl nodded in understanding, though he was confused as to where he fit into this.

"You will be Jazz's guide, you will show him every part of the base and all of the workings," Prime finished.

Prowl protested, "With all do respect, Sir, I do not have time-" But Prime would hear none of it.

"Do not make me order it." Prowl sighed but nodded his consent. "Good, he will be arriving in tomorrow."

Prowl sighed internally and excused himself. He quickly made his way back to his office, intent on finishing his work before the new mech arrived.

/?/

Jazz gazed at the red and blue mech and was instantly intrigued. This mech was rigid with formality and stiff with protocol. Beyond that however, was a delicious, attractive body and a handsome face that Jazz desired to get to know more... personally.

He wondered what Prowl looked like when he smiled, or even laughed. Jazz decided, with excitement that he would make it his goal to make the mech smile at least.

Jazz sauntered up to the other mech and held his hand out, "Hey, name's Jazz!"

Prowl seemed unimpressed, though he took his hand, "My designation is Prowl." He spun and began marching into the base.

Jazz followed behind him, "So are ya' like me caretaker?"

Prowl seemed to be barely restraining his annoyance, "Indeed."

"So ya gonna take me 'round the base or..." Jazz trailed off.

"Yes," Prowl said tersely.

Jazz and the other mech lapsed into an uncomfortable silence that seemed to permeate the hall.

Prowl stopped suddenly and turned, the door opened automatically and he stepped in without pausing to wait to see if Jazz followed.

Jazz glanced around him, there were mechs and femmes milling about, sitting and drinking energon amicably. Some of the mechs looked up at the two, the mechs glanced at him with some interest but then their eyes landed on Prowl and they looked away, their voices becoming hushed.

Jazz frowned in slight annoyance. He glanced at his companion and noticed with interest that his face was utterly void of emotion, if anything, there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. If only just barely there.

"This is the rec-room," Prowl said stiffly.

Jazz nodded with mock fascination, "Interestin'"

Prowl seemed to be resisting the urge to roll his optics. He promptly left the room, but just before Jazz left he noticed that a dark grey mech, sitting with a blue mech stared after Prowl with angry optics.

Jazz wondered what had gone on between the mech and Prowl to cause such anger. He desired to know everything there was to know about Prowl.

Jazz quickly followed after the second in command as the mech quickly walked away. He finally caught up and decided to try to strike up a conversation.

"So... What's it like to be Second in command?" He asked.

"Work," came the brusque, clipped answer.

"Uh... do you like it?"

"My feelings of the job make no difference of wether or not I perform it," Prowl stopped abruptly again in front of a room.

He gestured to it, "This is your room, tomorrow I will show you the rest of the base, there is also a meeting tomorrow at 14:00 hours, please be there," then Prowl left abruptly not waiting for an answer.

Jazz was left in the room with his mouth open, ready to answer. The head of Special Ops closed his mouth with a smirk and lay down on his birth. He closed his optics and his mind was filled with very... interesting visions of a certain second in command.

Jazz smiled, his time at the base would be very entertaining.


	3. Chapter 3

_**And the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains, within the sound of silence...**_

Jazz stumbled backwards into the hall way, somehow managing to stay on his feet. The energon cubes in his hands almost fell to the floor but he kept his servos on them.

Mirage and Hound happened to be walking past and saw what had just occurred and both snickered to each other.

"Prowl kick you out again," Mirage said with a smirk.

Jazz huffed, "Yeah, won't even let me bring him energon, even though he needs it," the last bit was spoken under his breath.

"I don't know why you try, Jazz," Hound said.

Jazz glanced back to the closed door and then beckoned for them to follow him down the hall. When he got far enough he spoke in a whisper, making sure no one was around to hear.

"Because he deserves to have someone look after him," Jazz said in a passionate whisper.

Hound and Mirage looked at each other, perplexed, "Why?"

Jazz sighed and shook his head, "Do you guys even have any idea what Prowl does for you, for all of us?"

"What are you talking about Jazz?"

"Haven't you ever noticed that neither of you are ever sent on separate missions?" Jazz began.

Mirage and Hound glanced at each other and shook their heads.

"It's because Prowl knows you guys are bonded," Jazz waved his hands as if it was obvious.

Realization dawned on Hound's face but Mirage remained skeptical.

"Nah, mech, that's a total coincidence. There's no way Prowl does that specifically 'cause we're bonded," he said with a shake of his head.

Hound turned to him, "No, think about it 'Raje, First Aid and Ratchet, Inferno and Red Alert, Ironhide and Tracks, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Wheeljack and Hoist," Hound said to his mate, "On all of the missions they've been on, none of them have been separated or at least to far away. I just never realized it until now."

Jazz nodded, "Not only that, but he knows everyone's preferred schedules. Like when they work best or who they work best with. He knows who to put where and when and for how long," Jazz's optics dimmed a bit, almost like he had a faraway look in them, "He also makes sure that no mech is overly stressed. When he sees someone is stressed, he gives them less work and send them to Smokescreen."

Mirage whistled and Hound nodded his head in agreement.

"He makes sure everyone is happy and everything is running smoothly," Jazz said, his voice quiet in awe.

Mirage and Hound glanced to each other and snickered.

"Sounds like someone's got a crush," Mirage said playfully.

Jazz sighed and nodded, "Yeah but I've already been here for at least half a vorn and he's barely given me the time of day. Some times I imagine he starts to look interested but then he pulls himself away and locks himself in his office, and when I try to do something nice he just throws me out," he said holding up the cubs of energon.

Mirage shrugged and slapped his friend amicably on the back, "Keep trying mech, maybe you'll get through. I still think it's like tryin' to ask a drone out."

Jazz frowned at that and shook his head.

Mirage laughed and slung his arm around the Head of Special Ops, "C'mon, J, let's go play some poker with Wheeljack and Smokescreen," he said and started down the hall. He stopped and turned to his mate, who had not joined them, "You coming Hound?"

Hound nodded, "You go on, I have to check something out."

Mirage shrugged and continued down the hall with Jazz, talking about their previous mission.

Hound turned and started down the opposite way until he came to a familiar door. He paused before knocking, and held his breath as he waited for an answer.

He did not need to wait long, the door swung open almost immediately and he was surprised at the tone of voice of the mech who addressed him.

"Jazz, I swear if I have to tell you one more time...," That was about when Prowl realized that it was not Jazz standing in front of him, but Hound.

The one on the outside of the door, nearly took a step back in surprise. He had never heard Prowl's voice sound so expressive and... emotional before.

"Oh, Hound, come in," Prowl's voice lost all emotion and it quickly slipped back into the tight politeness.

Hound swallowed and smiled and walked in after the Second in Command.

Prowl went back behind his desk and sat down, he gestured to the seat across from him and Hound obliged.

"Is there something you needed?" Prowl asked, his voice still empty.

Hound frowned mentally but spoke anyway, "It's about Mirage, he seems really stressed lately."

Prowl nodded, "Would you like me to schedule some time off together, and perhaps a visit to my bro- Smokescreen?"

Hound did not miss the slight slip, but he cataloged that for later. He was only interested in how...robotically sincere the SIC sounded; if that made any sense.

"I would really appreciate time off, but I don't think the visit to the Psychiatrist is necessary, thank you, commander," The Special Ops mech said.

Prowl nodded and stood, "I will arrange it for two orn from now, is that acceptable?"

Hound nodded and stood as well.

"Good, now if that is all, I must go and see Optimus Prime," he said leading the other mech out of his office.

Hound blinked, "Really why?"

"I do not know," he said simply and began walking towards their leader's office.

Hound paused contemplating if he should say anything or not, finally, mind made up, he called out to the Praxian.

Prowl paused and turned to face the other mech.

"Prowl, I... I think you should give Jazz a chance."

The Second in commands optics widened in surprise, but they quickly darkened in anger, "That is none of your business, Hound," he said and continued out of sight.

Hound sighed and shook his head, "I'm an idiot."

/?/

"It has come to my attention, Prowl, that you are not consuming energon regularly," Optimus Prime said in his most authoritative voice.

Prowl frowned minutely.

_Do you care?_

"After all, I need my second in command in top shape," Optimus finished lightly.

_Of course not._

"Understood sir, but if I may ask, who brought this to your attention?" Prowl asked, his voice stiff and emotionless.

"Oh, It was Ratchet," Prime said, thinking nothing of it.

"Thank you sir, is that all?" Prowl said preparing to leave.

"I also wished to tell you that you and Jazz will be going on a short reconnaissance mission. I've heard intel that the Decepticons are mobilizing in the west and I wanted you and Jazz to check it out and report back with anything you find," Prime said. "I've already informed Jazz."

Prowl nodded then excused himself.

He needed to speak with Ratchet and his broth- Smokescreen.

Though he would not admit it, Prowl was beyond annoyed that Prime was setting up this mission with Jazz. Ever since he had gotten there, the head of the Special Ops division had been trying to get Prowl to go out with him on a date.

Prowl refused him every time, not only because he did not trust Jazz with his feelings, but because he had sworn not to enter a relationship again.

Not after... Prowl shook his head to expel those thoughts as he entered the med bay.

Ratchet looked up and frowned as though he had been expecting Prowl's arrival.

"Prowl."

"Ratchet," Prowl stepped in and made sure they were alone. "For what reason did you inform Optimus Prime of my energon and recharging habits?"

Ratchet crossed his arms and scowled harder, "Because it is not healthy," he growled.

"My health is not-"

"Like frag it isn't! Your can't keep this up Prowl! Your going to shut yourself down," he scolded. Ratchet's anger only grew as he saw the emotionless expression on the other mechs face. "Don't you care about yourself?!"

"I ask that you keep my medical records confidential as they should be in the future, Chief Medical Officer," Prowl said, his voice void of emotion or expression.

Ratchet had had enough, "Get out!"

Prowl's optics narrowed, but he said nothing as he spun on his heels and walked out of the med bay.

Ratchet sat back and sighed, "He's going to kill himself one of these days."

/?/

Smokescreen knew exactly who had entered the rec-room, even if his back was to the door, and this was because it went nearly completely silent.

He turned and saw none other that Prowl standing before him.

"Commander," he said stiffly. He placed his poker cards down and was aware of the eyes of every mech in the room on them.

"Smokescreen, I would like to discuss something," Prowl said.

The older brother had no desire to go anywhere with the SIC, and he decided to act on that, never mind that he was acting like a petulant sparkling.

"We can discuss it here."

Prowl's optics narrowed and Smokescreen relished in the reaction, no matter how minute.

"As, you wish," Prowl began, "I am putting you on mandatory leave of absence, for the next five orn," he said.

Smokescreen shot up out of his seat, "What?!" He roared.

Prowl seemed unintimidated by the taller mech looming over him. "Did I not speak clearly?"

This only served to anger the older brother further, "Why the frag are you doing this?!"

Prowl folded his hands behind his back and stood at attention, "You're performances in battle are obviously lacking and I surmised it was because of-"

"Fuck you, Prowl," Smokescreen roared. "Fuck you! Do you even have a spark?! Are you just a drone?! What the FRAG is wrong with you?! Why couldn't you be more like Lyra?! Why couldn't-"

"ENOUGH!"

The whole room went silent and still. Not one mech breathed or moved an inch. They had all frozen.

Never had any of them heard Prowl raise his voice, Smokescreen included.

The brother was stunned into silence.

"You will be going on leave and you will never mention Lyra again to me," Prowl's voice was deadly and as cold as ice, "Am I understood?"

Smokescreen could only nod his head numbly and watch as Prowl exited the room without another word.

The older Praxion sat back in the chair, his mouth still open. He shook his head, to clear his thoughts and ran a servo over his face.

He should not have said those things. He only wished he had realized that before he said them.

/?/

Prowl quickly entered his room and an to his birth. He curled up on it and held his servos close to try to stop the shaking in them.

His brother had never spoken to him like that, and he had never yelled at his brother.

Prowl closed his optics.

He had thought, that what Smokescreen had said about them not being brothers anymore had been just a lie, a way to get an emotional response out of him.

Prowl's whole body trembled with pain.

Smokescreen was not lying, though. He had meant it when he had said that they were no longer brothers anymore. That hurt the SIC more than an energon blade to his spark.

He smiled darkly, but he did not have a spark did he.

Prowl could feel himself slipping into the darkness, the numbness.

He felt more of himself fall apart.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Neath the halo of a street lamp**_

_"Prowl?"_

The darkness called to him. Strange it had never done that before.

_"Prowl!"_

Even more strange was that the darkness sounded rather concerned. He was shaking, trembling violently. He only needed to open his optics. This was getting dangerous, he almost did not have the energy to online his optics.

He couldn't bring himself to care.

The first thing that came into view was Jazz's visored face. Though the Praxian could not see the optics of the other mech, he looked and acted decidedly frantic.

In a moment of strange emotion, Prowl reached up his servo and took Jazz's face in his hand. He stroked his thumb across the cheek. While he did this, Jazz had frozen in place, not moving, not even breathing.

He was almost glad he had put his visor down. He could imagine Prowl's face if he could see Jazz's wide almost hopeful optics.

They were both there, frozen in time.

Suddenly, Prowl's optics widened and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. His servo snapped back as if Jazz had burned him and he sprang up.

He cleared his throat and scooted away from the other mech and schooled his features.

"Jazz, what are you doing in my quarters?" He asked, his voice passive.

The other mech frowned at the loss of warmth but answered anyway, "I tried comming you but you didn't answer, so I overrode your lock to check up on you. You were in recharge but when I tried to wake you up, you wouldn't online. I called your name like fifty times and I was about to call Ratch when you onlined and...yeah," He said uncomfortably remembering what had happened moments before.

"What is it that you needed Jazz?" Prowl's voice could almost be described as annoyed.

Jazz crossed his arms and stood back, "It's almost time to go on the mission, remember?"

Prowl nodded, "Alright, I shall meet you outside the base in three joor."

Jazz took that as a dismissal, but just before he left he turned back to the other mech, "Prowl... about what happened..."

Prowl did not need to hear anymore,"I do not wish to speak of it," He gently pushed Jazz the rest of the way out of his room, "Ever."

The door closed with a final snap and Jazz stood back, wondering what the frag had just happened.

/?/

The warm water ran down his plates in a steady stream.

Prowl had been standing in the washroom for almost half a joor now, still thinking about the same thing.

It was strange, not just his actions, but while he was in recharge.

Nothing had been able to penetrate the darkness before. No voice, no sound, no feeling, nothing. Yet he had heard Jazz, he had heard the voice and how worried it had sounded, and he had certainly felt something.

Prowl leaned back on the wall and let the water run over his face plate.

He had felt warm and comfortable.

He had felt safe. This had not happened since her...

Memories of pain and helplessness consumed him. Despite his protest, energon fell down his faceplate and mixed with the water as it flowed down the drain.

He was glad he had closed the bond between him and his brothers, or they would be burdened by this pain too.

He wiped the energon away and shut off the water and stepped into the dryer. The hot air blew on him from all directions.

He leaned his head back and decided he would simply ignore his developing feelings for the kind and beautiful mech.

His optics flashed.

_Beautiful?_

He shut off the dryer and stepped out of the washroom and checked his internal supply.

He was only at sixty-five percent, he would need more energon for the journey. Prowl hated to admit it but he would have to go to the rec-room, even if he was loath to return there, especially after what had happened yesterday with Smokescreen.

He check the time and saw, with an annoyed grimace that he still had a joor to kill.

With a sigh he walked out of his room and into the mostly empty hall way. Just before he entered the rec-room, Mirage stopped him.

"Hey, Prowl, I just wanted to say thanks for the orn off tomorrow," he said and continued past.

Prowl stared after him in surprise.

No one had ever thanked him for what he did before.

Prowl frowned and realized that today was just going to be awful.

He had no idea about how right he was.

/?/

The drive with Jazz was filled with silence from both ends.

Prowl could tell that Jazz was hesitant and uncomfortable about mentioning what had happened that morning and Prowl was just fine with that. He would much rather ignore what had happened and say it did not happen at all.

He should have known that would not last.

"So...about this morning...?" There was a question but Jazz couldn't decide if he wanted to ask it.

"I do not wish to discuss it," Prowl voice was final.

Jazz would have none of it. He spun and parked himself in front of the police car and transformed, his arms crossed.

Prowl was forced to slam on his brakes and transform. He skid some, stopping only inches from Jazz.

"I said I did not want to talk about it," Prowl insisted.

Jazz leaned in closer, "Too fraggin' bad, we need to talk about it. Look, just tell me what-"

He stopped when he heard the sound of a jet engine roaring towards them.

Prowl's optics widened and he grabbed Jazz and threw him to the ground, quickly following, just as a bomb exploded, mere feet from where they were.

Another engine joined the first.

Prowl's battle computer was going into overdrive as he surveyed their surroundings for somewhere to hide. He saw an outcropping a quarter of a mile away and hoped that there would be somewhere to hide.

Prowl gestured to it and Jazz understood.

They both transformed and sped off that way. The two Decepticon jets followed them, still dropping bombs on them, causing the cars to have to swerve to get out of the way.

On occasion they would dive down at the Autobots and would force them to turn sharply.

One jet got lucky, and dragged his claws down Prowl's roof. He cried out and nearly stopped but he ignored the pain and continued.

"Prowl?!" Jazz cried. He had reached the outcropping first and as Prowl reached him, the other mech transformed and pushed him over.

There was a whistle from behind and then an explosion.

Prowl was thrown backwards, shards of rocks hitting him in all directions. He felt himself tumbling over the cliff face and down the side.

There was pain on his back, his side and his wings, but as he landed and rocks came rolling into his vision from above, his only thought was that he hoped Jazz was alright.

He fell into the darkness again.


	5. Chapter 5

_**I turned my collar to the damp and cold**_

His optics flickered on and he groaned in annoyance, because his visor was sporting a jagged crack down the left side.

Jazz sat up slowly and rocks fell away from his chest plate. He moved his right arm then his left but flinched when he felt pain shooting up his servo.

There was a long scratch on his forearm, leaking energon, though it did not seem too deep.

Memories of what happened flooded into his mind and he sprang up. Jazz instantly regretted it as the world spun and tilted. He held his head and steadied himself, and waited until the world stopped moving to look around.

"Prowl?!" He called in a loud whisper. He did not want to alert the Decepticons that he was alive in case they were still around.

"Prowl!" He called more frantically.

He climbed over the mountains of rubble searching for his friend, and continued to call his name.

His next call died in his throat when he notice one particular pile of rubble had energon slowly rolling down the rocks.

With his spark in his throat, he began to pull away rocks as quickly as he could.

When the rocks were gone he barely held in a gasp of terror.

Prowl lay in a puddle of energon amidst the rocks. There was a deep gash on his left side that still had energon leaking lazily out. The worst however was his back.

There was energon everywhere around his back, and Jazz was forced to lift the poor mech to see the damage.

He could not help the cry of horror that escaped his lips.

One of Prowl's wings was completely gone and was left on the ground when Jazz had lifted him up. Energon gushed out of it and Jazz quickly pulled out a small med-kit from subspace. He pinched the lines leaking energon and tied a cloth around the clamp, hoping to stop the leaking. Energon stained the cloth, but certainly not as bad as before.

Jazz turned to the other wing and was glad that this one was not as bad as the other. It still looked painful, though. Jazz moved it gently but pulled away when a strangled cry of pain came from his companion.

Prowl's optics flashed on, nearly white with the pain he was in. He was gasping and shaking with the pain from his back and side. He felt slightly off balance on his left side.

Prowl's optics turned to Jazz and they widened even further. He looked surprised, then a flood of understanding hit him.

"D-Decepticons?" Prowl voice was raspy and breathy, almost like he could not breath.

Jazz shook his head, "They're gone Prowl, they think we're dead." The Visored mech's servo's shook as he held Prowl, "Y-You're banged up pretty bad Prowler."

Prowl was in too much pain to reprimand his companion about the nickname.

"W-Where... are we? How long... have we been out?" Prowl asked, his voice was starting to slur and Jazz did not know what to do.

"We're 'bout seventy miles from the base and we've been here for... six joor," He said. "They should be sending out a search party for us. So...you have to hold on, okay Prowl," Jazz's voice was soft and worried. "You have to stay 'wake." He wracked his brain for a way to keep Prowl's optics online.

"Who's Lyra?" He asked suddenly.

Prowl stiffened, but the pain in his side and back forced him to relax.

"She was my first love," He whispered quietly.

He could not understand why he was telling Jazz of all people about the most painful time in his life. He chalked it up to energon loss.

"Oh," Jazz sounded lost, "What was she like?"

Then something amazing happened, Prowl smiled. It was small and soft, but it was there all the same.

"She was beautiful and kind. She always smiled and laughed more than any mech or femme I have ever met," his voice was growing softer, "She taught me how to laugh and love," his voice was trailing off and Jazz could tell he was loosing the other mech.

"What happened to her?"

Prowl began to shake, almost violently, "She was murdered."

Jazz's grip tightened on the other unconsciously, he could hear the pain in his voice.

"She was killed by a rouge bot, speeding while energized. He was driving on the wrong side of the road and they collided head on... they both died instantly." He began to shake again, "It was the most painful thing...I... thought I was going to die..."

"Is that why you refuse me all the time?" Jazz asked.

Prowl nodded, "I know I am a horrible mech... I..." His voice petered off and his optics were dimming.

"Hey, stay awake Prowler," Jazz insisted, he shook him lightly.

"I...do not... think I am going to...make it," his voice was dying. Prowl would have, should have been ashamed for the amount of emotions he was showing, but he could not bring himself to care.

"Yes! Yes you are!" Jazz said with surprising conviction. "You will be fine...Alright, I'll make a deal with you, If you live, you have to go out with me. So you have to live, please."

"And...if I...don't?" His voice was getting softer, lower.

"You will," Jazz said.

There was a sound above them and Jazz looked up.

"Hey, Jazz!?"

From where he sat, Jazz could see the golden metallic sheen of Sunstreaker and his brother. He could have jumped for joy at that moment, but instead turned back to Prowl.

"Prowl! Prowl they're...Prowl?" Jazz frowned when he saw that Prowl's optics had gone dark. He shook him and called out his name but it made no difference.

Jazz felt his own optics beginning to strain and he saw the world getting darker. He tried to fight against it, but he had his own wounds that had been slowly leaking energon since he had woken up.

His reserves were dangerously low and he knew there was nothing he could do.

He felt wind blowing and the last thing he saw was Optimus Prime and Ratchet running towards them.

He blacked out.

/?/

When Jazz onlined again, it was to the safe sounds of the med-bay. He sat up slowly to take in the familiar room and wondered if he had ever been this happy to see it.

"Awake then?" Ratchet said, entering the room and seeing him up.

Jazz ran a servo across his faceplate, "What happened...?" His optics widened as he remembered, "Prowl?! Is he 'lright?!"

Ratchet pushed him back down onto the birth with a gentle hand. "Prowl's a little banged up and still missing a door wing, but he's going to be fine," The Med bot's tone took on a more serious one, "What were you two doing down in that gorge?"

Jazz sighed, "We were attacked by some Decepticons, ones that I've never seen before."

Ratchet frowned, "You'll have to tell Prime that in your report."

Jazz nodded then sat back up, "Can...Can I see Prowl?"

Ratchet frowned and almost looked like he was going to say no, but he heard the desperation in Jazz's voice and wondered if there was something more going on between those two.

"Alright, he's this way. Careful as you get up," Ratchet said and led him down to one of the further beds.

Jazz did as he was told and followed Ratchet to the furthest bed and pulled back the curtain.

Prowl lay on his stomach, silent and still.

Jazz cringed from the sight of Prowl with only one door wing, the other only a nub. He thanked Ratchet and sat down in the chair next to Prowl's birth.

Surprising Ratchet, Jazz took Prowl's servo in his own and held it tight.

The Med-bot decided to give them alone time and knew for certain that there was definitely something going on between the Second in Command and the Third in Command.

If anything the older mech was happy for both of them. Those two needed to get out and have some fun, Prowl especially.

Smokescreen and Blustreak bolted in at that moment, both looking frantic and worried. Ratchet tried to shoo them out but they pushed past him to their brother.

Bluestreak nearly burst into tears at the sight of his older brother missing a door wing. He glanced at Smokescreen who was silent.

"We should have known... if the bond had been open...Frag it!" He cried and stormed out. Bluestreak called after him, but the eldest brother ignored him.

Bluestreak sighed and shook his head, he turned back to Prowl and Jazz.

The other conscious mech pretended not to notice what had just happened. Jazz turned back to Prowl with a frown.

The relationship of Prowl and his brothers was not really any of his business, yet.

Bluestreak turned to Prowl as well and sighed, "I'm so sorry Prowl," he said and ran a servo across the back of Prowl's head. He shook his head and left.

Jazz watched him leave in silence closed his optics. He leaned closer to Prowl and hoped he could hear him.

/?/

_Prowl?_

Strange, there was that voice again.

_Prowler, can you hear me?_

The voice no longer sounded worried, maybe sad.

_You still owe me that date._

Date? What Date?

_I don't think you can hear me so, I'm just gonna say it: You're something special Prowl, your a mech I want to get to know every part of. Every quark, every bit of your past, I want to know what makes you you. _

Jazz?


	6. Chapter 6

**When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon sign...**

"Jazz?" The question was no longer simply internalized.

It felt strange to Prowl, being able to come online so easily.

The first thing he saw was Jazz sitting at his side, holding his servo. He felt warmth in his spark and he thought, for a moment, that he could get used to this. He quickly shook the thoughts away and retracted his servo.

He tried to ignore the despairing look on Jazz's face, he almost gave in and took the other mech's hand again.

"How did we make it back?" He asked instead.

"They found us," was all Jazz said. He looked crestfallen, but perked up quickly.

"I told you they would find us, and you owe me a date," he said happily.

Prowl frowned and tried to remember what he had agreed to. Foggy memories of him promising to go out on a date with Jazz should they survive, came back to him. He could not deny it, so he decided to go with it.

"Alright," Prowl said, though grudgingly, and reveled in the surprised look on Jazz's face.

"What are we doing for this date then?"

Jazz's mouth opened and closed and he floundered for a moment before he recovered, "I want to show you this really nice spot near the base," he started to rise, his face getting an excited quality, "And don't worry, there won't be any Decepticons there!" He called as he practically sprinted out of the med-bay, Ratchet following him, cursing all the way.

Prowl shook his head and wondered what he had just agreed to.

/?/

Prowl felt oddly empty without one of his door wings. He felt off balance every time he stood, not that Ratchet would let him stand much.

So far he had been in med bay for several orns, much to the SIC chagrin. Jazz had visited him every orn and Bluestreak every other.

His younger brother told him how angry Smokescreen was over having to hear about his injuries from Prime, rather than through the bond. Even so, he would not open the bond, he would not want his brothers to experience his pain.

Prowl sighed and bowed his head.

/?/

The SIC heard the door to the medical wing open and already knew who it was without looking.

Jazz sauntered up to him and smiled his customary wide, playful smile. His vizor was down but that hardly hid his expression.

He took Prowl's servo and started to lead him out of the room.

"Where are we going," Prowl asked.

Jazz smiled wider, "It's a secret," he said. "And since you got your wing back, Ratchet will finally let me take you out of here for a little while."

Prowl rolled his eyes but followed him anyway. He was mildly curious as to what Jazz had planned anyway. He was also really surprised that Ratchet approved of this little excursion.

Jazz stopped at his quarters and told Prowl to wait. He ran in and came back out with a small strip of cloth. He was prepared to put it over Prowl's optics but the other mech stopped him.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Jazz insisted.

Prowl frowned at the blindfold and then at Jazz who looked at him with such excitement, he decided not to refuse.

With a great and heavy sigh he relented, "Fine, but you had better not make me run into anything on purpose."

Jazz's servo came to rest on his spark, "I'm hurt Prowler, I would never do such a thing."

Prowl narrowed his optics and remained still as Jazz tied the cloth around his optics. The cloth was black, so it was impossible to see through it. He frowned in annoyance as Jazz took his servo and led him down the hall.

Though Prowl could not see, he could hear the snickers and laughter of mechs as he passed them down the halls, and because of his loss of sight, he was not as perceptive as normal and was unable to tell where he was going.

He was about to complain to Jazz about this when he heard the sound of the main door opening and he felt the breeze of Cybertron hit his face.

"Jazz, are we outside?"

Jazz chuckled, "Yup, it's only a little way."

They walked for another few moments before Jazz stopped suddenly, "We're here!"

Prowl finally pulled the blindfold away and stared dumbfound at what he saw.

It was a beautiful place, an enormous cave that rose to be about one-hundred feet above their heads. This was not the most amazing part though.

The most amazing part was the thousands and thousands of energon crystals that jutted out of the rock. They gleamed and sparkled when Jazz shown his light.

There were small ones and there were huge ones that hung from the ceiling like chandeliers.

"Jazz...This is...incredible," Prowl's voice and face were alight with wonder and awe.

Jazz smiled, proud of his accomplishment. He watched as Prowl walked slowly over to one particularly large crystal and gently ran a servo down it. He turned and smiled at Jazz and the other mech felt a warm glow in his spark at the rare sight.

"How did you find this place?" Prowl asked, only half listening as he wondered deeper into the cave.

"Well, after the first orn I was here, I was exploring and I stumbled on this place, pretty ain't it?" Jazz said with a smile.

Prowl laughed, "It is beautiful." He stopped when he saw a blanket laid out in the center of a clearing. Crystals surrounded the spot like a halo. Two small, metal lanterns sat at either edge and made the crystals glow like magic. There was a small metal cooler that sat on the blanket and waited for them patiently.

Prowl turned to Jazz questioningly, but Jazz simply gestured for him to sit.

The Praxian sat down, though somewhat hesitantly. As Jazz took energon out of the cooler, Prowl continued to look around the cave.

It almost felt like he was on another world entirely. The crystals danced in lazy shimmers of red and blue and green. Some cast a rainbow of light on others and the lights bounced away.

Prowl turned back to Jazz when he offered the Praxian the cube of energon. Prowl thanked him and sipped, still gazing at his surroundings.

"Do...Do you like it?" Jazz asked almost nervously.

Prowl turned to him with a small, "I love it," he said dreamily.

Jazz blushed and his smile widened. He was glad he had finally gotten Prowl to smile, and he had to admit that Prowl looked beautiful, bathed in the soft glow of the crystals.

Jazz placed his energon cube down and leaned foreword. He gently and slowly grabbed Prowl's shoulder and drew him closer. Prowl watched him curiously.

Time seemed to slow to a stop as their lips connected.

They moved as one, both hungry for the kiss, both needing it. Their optics dimmed and Jazz wrapped his arms around the other mech and drew him closer still.

Prowl complied and scooted closer still keeping their mouths connected.

It was like a spark was passing between them, connecting them, and then, suddenly it ended.

Prowl shot back as if Jazz had burned him. His optics were bright with confusion and pain. He looked everywhere except at Jazz.

"I can't," he whispered, then ran off.


	7. Chapter 7

"Prowl please, come on, open up," Jazz shouted through the door.

The door remained closed, though, and did not appear to be opening anytime soon.

Ever since their date, Prowl had been avoiding him like his life depended on it. Jazz was practically beside himself, trying to find a way to talk to Prowl without him running away.

He felt angry at himself for being so direct with his crush, but he also felt frustrated with Prowl for taking a step foreword then two steps back. He desperately wanted to have a relationship with the Praxian, but he seemed adamant that it never happen.

"Having trouble," a voice asked.

Jazz turned and saw their medic, Ratchet standing behind him with a small, playful smile on his face.

Jazz shuffled a little, embarrassed, "Uh, yeah..."

"You, want me to talk to him, I could knock some sense in him," He said.

Jazz sighed, "If you think it would help?"

Ratchet chuckled and banged on the door, "Open up Prowl!" He shouted through the metal.

The door opened after a moment and Ratchet stepped inside. The metal door slid shut with a resounding click as soon as Ratchet had passed over the thresh hold.

The medic almost felt sorry for the other mech, who was forced to wait outside.

Prowl was sitting at his desk, scribbling furiously at a data pad. Several finished ones were piled up on his right and only a few were left to do on his left.

Ratchet walked up to the desk and cleared his throat.

Prowl looked up, "Hello Ratchet, is there something I can do for you?"

"No, but I think there's something I can do for you," the medic said.

Prowl frowned, "Did Jazz send you?"

"Not technically, no," Ratchet continued as Prowl opened his mouth to object. "Listen to me Prowl. Now, I don't know what happened to make you avoid Jazz like a virus, but that doesn't matter. You two have something special, something that you can not just throw away!"

Prowl sat back with a sigh, "I do not think I can...Ratchet I..."

But Ratchet was shaking his head, "Whatever happened, happened. It's in the past, it's over. Prowl you have to move on, let yourself be happy! You deserve it!"

Prowl's lips were shaking now, his optics dimming, "I-I do not know..."

Ratchet leaned over the desk and smacked Prowl across the faceplate. The Praxian sat stunned, one servo on his cheek plate.

"You are acting like a sparkling! You need to pull yourself out of, whatever it is you're in. Prowl, you and Jazz deserve one another," Ratchet's voice grew softer, "You shouldn't be afraid of disappointing or hurting the mechs you love. It's going to happen, but that's life Prowl, there's nothing we can do. Please, be with Jazz, I know you want to."

Prowl's face slowly crumpled until tears streaked down his faceplate. He furiously wiped at them but more replace them.

He nodded, "Y-You are right! I deserve to be happy!"

He slowly rose from his chair and smiled at Ratchet, he walked to the door and opened it.

Ratchet stepped out as Jazz stepped in.

The only thing he saw just before the door closed, was the two mechs kissing desperately.

Ratchet turned with a chuckle and continued down the hall.

Those two crazy mechs deserved each other.

**The next couple of chapters will be oneshots featuring Jazz and Prowl as they grow in their new relationship.**


	8. he's got it bad

**I am so sorry for the confusion, that some may have had. This is where the oneshots begin that were mentioned in the previace chaper. **

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Jazz?" Prowl said as he was led down the hall.

"Yeah Prowler, you need to get out more and socialize," the other mech said insistently.

Jazz squeezed the hand of his lover a little tighter and gave him an encouraging smile. He could tell Prowl was nervous about actually going to socialize and he understood why.

For most of the time since he had been promoted, Prowl had been a recluse and stern mech, always following the rules and enforcing them strictly. This had made him unfavorable to others.

"Jazz, I- The other mechs do not like talking to me...," Prowl said with a depressed sigh.

Jazz shook his head, "Well that changes now, Prowler." He was determined to at least get Prowl to hang out with others a little.

The Praxian was about to respond when they arrived at the rec-room and entered.

Mechs and femms milled about and spoke to each other amicably. A few of them turned to see the two others enter but the conversations continued.

Prowl's optics faded and brightened in surprise. Last time he had entered the rec-room, nearly every mech had stopped and gone quiet. They had stared at him like he was an unwelcome intruder so he had quickly grabbed his energon and left.

Now he almost felt comfortable in the knowledge that Jazz was here. The feeling of his lover's hand in his was heavy and Prowl had to admit to himself how much he liked it.

"Hey! Jazz, Prowl!" Sideswipe and Sunstreaker waved at them from a table. They gestured to two empty seats.

As Jazz led Prowl over to the table, Prowl noticed Mirage and Hound were also sitting and talking happily.

He sat down almost hesitantly, like he was afraid he was being judged by every mech in the room. It was begging to get harder to hide his emotions from others, and he suspected it had something to do with his romantic involvement with Jazz.

He smiled at the thought.

Everyone at the table seemed to freeze and Prowl wondered if he had done something wrong.

"What?" He asked, getting annoyed with the eyes upon him.

"I've never seen you smile before, Prowl," Hound said.

"Me neither," the twins echoed at the same time.

Jazz's own smile brightened, "Beautiful, ain't it?" He said and left a blushing Prowl to go get energon.

"So, Prowl, how long have you and Jazz be together, " Mirage asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Five orn almost," Prowl said with another slight smile.

"How is that?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Fantastic," Prowl said almost dreamily.

The other mechs at the table glanced at each other with a smile.

Oh yeah, he has got it bad.


	9. Brother

That had always been one of his greatest fears, burying his brothers.

Prowl would never admit it, but he was always scared, always hesitant to send his brothers out onto the front lines. He knew, however, that they were in war and these actions had to be decided by someone.

Now it was even worse, for he had three mechs to worry over. Though Jazz hardly ever allowed any fussing over him.

Every time he returned scratched or banged up he would simply kiss his lover and laugh it off.

At times Prowl would dream of the death of his brothers or lover and it would almost be impossible for him to force his eyes open. Whenever Jazz would wake up beside him and ask what was wrong, the SIC would simply dismiss the question and continue on with his work.

Prowl knew that Jazz was worried about him working himself to death, and considering how he rarely went into recharge anymore, for fear of never waking up.

He knew that not only his lover but everyone on the base was worried about him when he looked up at the mech he least expected to see walk into his room.

"Hello Prowl," Smokescreen walked up to the desk. His face was carefully neutral, but he could hardly hide the consternation at having to be there.

"What can I do for you Smokescreen?" Prowl's reply was stiffly polite and withdrawn.

"I've heard that you're not going into recharge lately, and you're over working yourself. Would you like to tell me why?"

Prowl's hand stopped working on the pad. He slowly placed the stylus down and looked up at his elder brother. The tension was palpable in the air, and both felt the waves coming off the other.

"I had not realized that I had asked for a therapy session today?" Prowl said with stiff politeness.

Smokescreen's neck twitched in annoyance and his optics narrowed at his younger brother.

"You may not have, but there are some interested parties who wanted me to come talk with you," Smokescreen said, matching the tense air with his tone of voice.

Prowl sighed and returned to filling out the pad.

"Jazz and Bluestreak, I suppose," it was not a question.

Smokescreen tilted his head back and stared down at his brother.

"Everyone on this base is concerned about your health," he said, his voice was growing low and dangerous.

Prowl did not even glance up at his brother, "You can inform these interested _parties_ that there is nothing wrong with me and I am fine, good day Smokescreen."

Prowl had expected Smokescreen to shout or even perhaps punch. What he had not expected, was for him to simply shake his head and walk away.

Prowl's optics narrowed in confusion and...hurt as his older brother gave up on him and walked out. The stylus shook in his hands and he suddenly felt uncontrollable anger. He shot up and pitched the little writing utensil across the room, where it shattered into a million pieces when it slammed into the wall.

With deep drawing breaths he panted and leaned over his desk until he felt everything building and moving to erupt.

He slammed his fist down and screamed at the top of his lungs, letting out all of the pain and hurt and fury in that one primal let go.

It ended quickly and he collapsed into his chair, painting.

He covered his optics in his servos and cried.

"Well, what did he say?" Bluestreak asked with ernest hope.

Smokescreen had barreled past the group of mechs and into that rec-room, he sat down with a huff.

"He refused to listen to me," he growled.

The others gathered around with Jazz and Blustreak standing directly across from him.

"Come on Smokescreen, you could've tried harder," Jazz insisted, "You're the only one that he would even listen to."

"No he won't, I am the last mech he would listen to! Besides, if he wants to run himself into the ground, see if I care," Smokescreen had hissed.

Everyone had gone quiet and Bluestreak walked slowly around the table. He stopped right in front of his oldest brother and slapped him.

There was a sharp intake of air and everyone froze. Not one thing moved or even dared to breath.

Smokescreen slowly raised his hand to his cheek, his mouth hung wide open.

"Blue-"

"How dare you even think that you don't care about Prowl. He's your brother, and you have a responsibility to take of him and make sure he's safe," Bluestreak practically yelled.

Everyone in the room was utterly taken aback, no one had ever heard Bluestreak yell like this. Smokescreen was almost tempted to get up and leave, he could not handle all of this emotional stress, but he knew his youngest brother needed to get this off his chest.

"So what he cut us off?! So what?! That does not mean you can just give up on him and forget about him or stop caring," Bluestreak got right up in his brother's face, "I know you still care, and what do you think Carrier and Sire would say if they saw you treating him like this?"

Smokescreen felt his own anger building and finally explode. He shot up and stood nose to nose with his brother.

"You think I don't know that, but he will not let me help him! I've tried talking and being patient but nothing is working. He's broken and messed up Bluestreak, and you know it!"

Tears ran down the younger's faceplate, "No! He's not! He's not broken!"

"Yes I am," a soft voice said from across the rec-room.

All optics turned to see Prowl walk further into the room, with slow and deliberate steps. His face was empty of all emotion, or so it seemed. To his brothers and to Jazz his pain and hurt at hearing those words from his own family was obvious.

"Prowl...," Jazz took a tentative step forward, his hands raised in a way to almost comfort the other mech.

Prowl, however, subtly stepped out of reach and clenched his hands behind his back. He refused to look at any of them, despite the slight upwards tilt of his head .

Bluestreak seemed to be near to running away, but Smokescreen's face reflected horror.

"I simply came to inform Jazz that he has a mandatory check up with Ratchet in one orn," Prowl said and with slightly hurried steps he left just as he had arrived.

Jazz shot an angry look at Smokescreen and hurried out after his lover.

Smokescreen sat down in his chair with a pained sigh and hid his face in his servos. He refused to look up, even as he knew his brother had turned to him with an accusing glare.

"You need to make up with Prowl," he said.

Smokescreen sighed again and shook his head, "He won't listen to me."

"Make him," came the simple reply, "if we lose Prowl because of this, then I will never forgive you." With that, Bluestreak stormed out of the room and back to work.

"Fine," Smokescreen whispered and rose to follow his brother.

Jazz had met him at the door to their shared room and looked as if he was going to stop him.

"Please, don't hurt him again," he said quietly.

Smokescreen had half a mind to tell him to shut his mouth, because he was the brother and he should be the one telling him that, but he knew that was not fair. He had not been a very good brother lately and he knew that.

Instead, he simply nodded and went inside.

To his surprise, Prowl sat at his desk, his head in his hands, a reflection of his older brother, only moments ago. He did not look up, even though he had heard Smokescreen enter.

"Prowl I-"

"You were right, you know. I am broken," he looked up and Smokescreen nearly cried at the raw desperation that was in his optics.

"I need you to understand that I can not let either of you in. I am so sorry, but I-I just can't," his voice trailed off into a whisper, "If I knew you were experiencing what I am, then... I think I would lose my mind."

Smokescreen felt his spark flicker at the utter pain and desperation in his little brother's voice. He walked slowly forward and enveloped him in a great, awkward hug from across the desk.

"I know, and though I can't claim to understand it, I can at least try to accept it. What you are doing and have done was for a reason, I know, but I still worry for you," Smokescreen whispered. "You are my little brother after all, and it is my job to protect you."

Prowl gave a shaky laugh, "I-I will take that."

"Prowl...I am so sorry," Smokescreen's grip tightened, "I never meant to hurt you, I'm just so worried about you... I need you and Blue to be alright, to make it out of this war alive. I only hope you can forgive me for the terrible way I've been acting."

Prowl laughed and they separated, "Of course I forgive you, brother."

Smokescreen smiled, "You know that I am so proud of you...right?"

"Yes."

"Good, now get some rest, Prowl," Smokescreen said and he left, understanding that there was nothing left to be heard or said.

Jazz was waiting anxiously on the other side and nearly ran into him as he exited.

"It is done," he said.

Jazz sighed in relief and moved to enter the room only to be stopped by a servo.

"Take care of him...he is very precious to me," Smokescreen's voice was no more than a whisper.

Jazz stared at him, but nodded all the same, "I promise I will," and he entered the room.

Smokescreen was left alone in the hall and wondered what the future held for his small family. He gave a quiet sigh and a shake of his head and he parted with only with four words.

"I love you, brother."


End file.
